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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682183">Curious Indulgence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan'>SashaDistan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Shiro (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Breathplay, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Dacryphilia, Docking, Hair-pulling, Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Shiro is rescued by the BOM, Shiro only has one braincell and it's on fire., Showers, Size Difference, Tails, Wet &amp; Messy, accidental pet names</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:16:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro has learnt many things in the weeks since he was rescued from Zarkon's arena by the Blade of Marmora. But Keith, with his lavender skin and purple stripes, his long tail, shy smile, and lightning fast reflexes, is something he wants to take his time getting to know. </p><p>Or: the one where Keith has a dick pouch, and Shiro has an obsession with it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Background Ulaz/Thace (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>616</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Curious Indulgence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawarakaimaxx/gifts">yawarakaimaxx</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, Max posted <a href="https://twitter.com/yawarakaiarts/status/1268220763879989250">this</a> set of sketches on twitter and I was instantly piqued! They were based on an original idea by Zee which you can see <a href="https://twitter.com/Heikijin/status/1265304775580672002">here</a>. Thank you so much to both for letting me come and play with their visuals! It was supposed to be a thousand horny words... and it's 11K, so.... oops.</p><p>Max then decided to sketch some little tidbits for this story too, which you can find in the text and also <a href="https://twitter.com/yawarakaiarts/status/1271479806069276674?s=19">here on twitter</a> . Thank you baby, you're wonderful! It goes without saying, but please don't download or repost their art.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Shiro has learnt a lot in his past eight weeks with the Blade of Marmora.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt what food goo is, and whilst it’s more plentiful than his Champion rations, it certainly doesn’t taste any better.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt to use a sword the correct way, which is not something he ever thought would be as big of a deal as it is in space.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt to use his voice again, properly. To say please, or <em>proz</em> in Galran. He knew the word before, but it didn’t matter to his captors if he used it. It didn’t matter to them if he spoke at all.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt what it’s like to be short. It’s one thing when the guards are all taller than you, and quite another when the Galra around you are now your comrades.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt to sew, because otherwise he’d have to live in the compression suit he wears under his regulation training armour. And he’s had enough of living in one-piece bodysuits twenty-four hours a day to last him the rest of his life.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt that the Blades don’t segregate any of their training or changing facilities based on gender. And that the Galra are a species more diverse than any other he’s yet encountered. Whilst they only have two genders, the variety of interspecies mixes makes determining the gender of anyone based solely on their exterior physical appearances very difficult.</p><p class="western">He’d been so weak upon his rescue and arrival with the Blades, that he’d needed help being decontaminated and changed. He’s learnt to live with Antok’s good natured, and almost scientific teasing about his ‘exposed testicles’ ever since. Antok was the one to help him source underwear into which he could actually fit, <em>after</em> the presentation of several hilarious and slightly terrifying options designed for other species. He likes Antok.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt that the Galra who have tails can use them like extra limbs, and that Regris is both very good at using his in a fight, and at losing control of it when he sneezes. A tail across the face is an unpleasant experience.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt that the other Blades consider Kolivan’s looping braid to be incredibly old fashioned and silly – not that anyone would dare say this in the Leader’s hearing – and that all the other Galra with hair cut theirs. About six weeks after his rescue, Thace offers to do his hair for him, and Shiro kind of loves the feeling of his claws over the back of his skull. The white forelock is weird, but it feels good to have his undercut back again.</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">When Ulaz returns, Shiro learns lots of things. He is uneasy in his corner of the common room when the severe, pale skinned Galra with his crest of silver hair, enters to rapacious applause and cheering. He knows that Ulaz was undercover, that he was never evil and never under Zarkon’s sway. But he can’t get over the memory that Ulaz was there – actively present – when his arm was taken and replaced with a weapon. His black polymer hand clenches in his lap, and Shiro prays the sudden spike of his heart rate doesn’t trigger it to become hot and deadly. He’s not had an accident with it outside of the training gym, and he doesn’t want to.</p><p class="western">Someone else returns with Ulaz, the blade who was sent to extract him from deep cover, and the greeting received by the little Blade with the whip-like tail is no less enthusiastic, even though they can only have been gone a fraction of the time. The chorus of ‘Keith!’ and ‘Little Kit!’ is somewhat deafening. The little Blade – built like his comrades, long of limb and lithe, but shorter and slighter than Shiro is – climbs Thace like a tree and hugs his head until he is shaken off. He springs away like a cat, straightening up to lean against Regris’s side with a friendly half hug, as Thace closes the distance to Ulaz in three great strides. The two have obviously missed each other on a deep and personal level, golden eyes only for each other now, with their foreheads pressed together. Shiro understands enough Galran to catch the joke Regris makes about them going off to be x-rated, and understands enough hand signals to know that Ulaz gives him the equivalent of the finger as they exit.</p><p class="western">The little Blade pulls back his hood and deactivates his face mask all in one movement, and Shiro stares. His features are more human than any Shiro has seen in over a year. He has lavender skin and amethyst purple stripes creeping over his high cheekbones and around the back of his neck from under his inky black hair, but his eyes are human. Human, and brilliant like a nebula. He sees Shiro looking, and gives him an almost imperceptible smile. He walks away alongside Antok, tail swishing behind him, but he speaks English as he goes.</p><p class="western">“So, how is the new guy?”</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">Dreams wake him, and Shiro finds himself heading for the showers at strange times of night. Partly to get out of his own head, and partly because eight weeks is not long enough for the novelty of freedom to wash whenever he wants, to wear off. He loves the showers.</p><p class="western">Keith is in the showers, clearly fresh off some kind of exercise, and Shiro tries not to stare as he heads for his own spray nozzle. The deep purple stripes decorate his whole body, thicker and darker across his spine and thinning as they trace his ribs. His tail is a constantly moving thing, spattered with pale purple on the underside for half its length, but mostly dark like his spine. He knows he’s doing a poor job of not looking, and focuses on the soothing motion of the falling water against his skin. He pushes his face under the spray and closes his eyes as he runs his human fingers through his hair over and over again.</p><p class="western">He sighs, letting the leftover tension of the dream drain from him. An answering groan makes him shiver in way which has nothing to do with cold.</p><p class="western">He glances over at Keith, facing him now, stepping from his shower. He stares at the pale skin of his taut belly, then his eyes drop to glimpse the curve of his pretty cock. Very pink and very beautiful, and very quickly hidden by the sweep of Keith’s tail as he reaches for his towel. Shiro blinks, forcing himself to look at Keith’s face as the half-Galra wraps his towel around his slender hips.</p><p class="western">“I always screw up my sleep schedule when I get back from the black.” His voice is low and gravely up close, and Shiro wants to listen to him talk more. Much more. “You settling in alright?”</p><p class="western">“Y-yeah. Thank you.”</p><p class="western">“Well, ‘night Shiro.”</p><p class="western">Shiro stares after him all he goes, and the black tufted tip of Keith’s tail waves at him as he rounds the corner out of sight. Shiro stares down at himself, and sees his erection waving back.</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">Ulaz brought code back with him when he was extracted from Zarkon’s ship. At least, Thace says it’s code, and Shiro does not want to argue with him, when the pictograms hovering in the air above the holoscreen look nothing like any kind of code he’s ever seen. But then, he’s seen so many things since he left Earth that are nothing like anything else, and he is currently living on a secret military resistance base positioned between two black holes. Whatever definition of normal he had, flew out the air-lock long ago.</p><p class="western">He doesn’t want to lie on the medical table, which is so reminiscent of the one where he was turned from a person into a science experiment, with a painful side of vivisection. But he does; because Kolivan is something in-between his rescuer and his commanding officer, and though he’s sworn that Shiro can stay with the Blades as long as he likes, he’s also scarier than Zarkon. About the time that Ulaz gets one of the panels of his upper arm open, Keith wanders in with his swishing tail and a ready smile, grabs a stool and sits alongside his head to ask him if ice cream is a real thing.</p><p class="western">It is the most unexpected question Shiro has been asked since his original capture, and Keith’s happy expression and unending curiosity keep him distracted long enough for Ulaz and Thace to do whatever it is they need to do to his arm to make him safe.</p><p class="western">“Did they actually tell you what they were up to?” Keith asks him. He has visible fangs when he talks, and the inside of his lips are pink. Shiro fails at not memorizing every part of Keith he can see.</p><p class="western">“Not in words I actually understood, no.”</p><p class="western">“The code severs the quintessence connection between your arm and Haggar. She won’t be able to use it to control you. You’ll still be able to use your arm. Wiggle your fingers.”</p><p class="western">Ulaz says something guttural which makes Keith’s tail crack like a whip in response, and the serious Galra switches back to English.</p><p class="western">“Best not move whilst we’re still in process. You won’t want him with just the one arm, Little Kit.”</p><p class="western">Keith arches a dark eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, and Shiro’s skin goes hot. He really hopes he isn’t blushing.</p><p class="western">“The downside for you is that you won’t be able to weaponize your arm any more. You’ll have to stick with swords and rifles like the rest of us. But they tell me you know how to fly?”</p><p class="western">“His simulator scores were acceptable,” Thace responds. From Thace, that is glowing praise.</p><p class="western">“Awesome. Maybe I’ll have someone to race around here finally.”</p><p class="western">There is a click and the sudden return of sensation in his arm, and Ulaz sits back with what Shiro is fairly certain is a friendly smile.</p><p class="western">“All done, Shiro.” The way says his name is careful, like he’s deliberately trying not to say <em>Champion</em>. “You are a free man.</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">The nightmares don’t stop after that, but they lessen; and he starts seeing Keith around the base more. The smallest Blade seeks him out at meal times and in the common room for tales of Earth, because he left when he was just a baby and all he has are his mother’s stories. They are anecdotes repeated ad infinitum, until Keith can recite them all like mathematical formulae, and he’s eager for anything Shiro can tell him. Keith is the only half-human Galra in the Blades, possibly the only one ever, and Shiro is the only human beyond his home solar system. And Shiro likes feeling a little less short when he sits opposite Keith, distracted from whatever flavour and colour of food goo is being served that day.</p><p class="western">When they offer to train together comes, Shiro takes it, and doesn’t even mind when his smaller sparring partner pins him to the floor after only twenty minutes of serious footwork. Losing to Keith in a fair fight makes the smallest Blade smile, and Keith’s smiles are a rarity to which Shiro has fast become addicted.</p><p class="western">They head to the showers after a cool down jog on the running track which loops the main gym, and Keith laughs at Shiro’s joke about there being so little <em>space</em> in space. Keith is already under the water by the time Shiro’s get himself out of his clothes, and he chooses a shower head a respectable distance away, soaping himself up and trying not to get caught staring. There’s no point promising himself he won’t look after all.</p><p class="western">Keith is running his claw tipped hands through his dark hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp in a motion which makes Shiro jealous. His tail weaves ceaseless behind him, his hips swaying like he’s dancing to a tune in his head. Then he turns under the water, face under the spray and eyes closed, and Shiro lets himself look.</p><p class="western"><a id="__DdeLink__556_1109641525" name="__DdeLink__556_1109641525"></a> There is no hint of the cock Shiro saw last time. In the cleft of his thighs where his dark, almost tiger like stripes fade into the faintest lavender shade which spreads up his belly, is a plush mound of flesh. And running up the centre of it, obviously not part of his anatomy, is a narrow black rectangle. It is adhered to his skin, and Shiro’s seen one once before.</p><p class="western">One of the options Antok presented and rejected for him, when he was trying to choose underwear had been a rectangle like that. Curious, Shiro had asked about it. It’s a modesty device, that much they’d been able to translate between them, but Shiro has never seen any other blade wear any clothing at all in the showers. When off duty and out of the compression suits, all the Blades are often shockingly cavalier about both nudity in general, and public displays of affection.</p><p class="western">Shiro knows that Keith had a cock last time he saw the half-Galra naked. And he’s been on the Blades base long enough to see, at a distance at least, a variety of sex organs which would make a graphic fantasy artist back on Earth blush. He stares at the black rectangle again as the conclusion unfurls in his mind that Keith’s cock is – somehow – hidden within the mound between his legs.</p><p class="western">Like a pouch, he thinks. And then he can’t shake the image.</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">Shiro catches himself thinking about it all the time.</p><p class="western">Keith meets him for a meal generously described as breakfast and as he slinks into his seat, all Shiro can picture is the thin black rectangle over the plush pouch, keeping in his cock like a guarded treasure.</p><p class="western">Shiro returns to his pre-Kerberos morning routine of sit ups, push ups, planks, and squats in his room, and with every repeated movement all he thinks about is the cock he glimpsed so briefly between Keith’s legs. The image of it sliding from plump wet folds plays over and over in a loop, until he’s sweating and his heart rate his thundering in his ears.</p><p class="western">Keith takes him out in a little jet, one without actual firepower, designed for speed and fun if Keith’s grin is to be believed. There isn’t a passenger seat, and Shiro ends up standing behind Keith with both hands grasping the back of his chair, a spare bit of webbing wrapped around the small of his back for stability, as Keith barrel rolls them through an asteroid belt. Keith whoops with delight, and Shiro finds himself staring down over his shoulder at his lap. Wondering if he’s wearing the modesty device today or if he reached down there, he’d be able to feel the opening of his pouch, slip in further with his fingers and feel the tip of his hidden dick.</p><p class="western">There’s no point saying he thinks about it when he jerks off in his bed, because of course he does.</p><p class="western">Sparring is the worst, or the best, because Shiro’s getting better at working with, and anticipating the way Keith moves, and he’s been training with other blades too and learning tricks from them. So he and Keith almost always end up hand to hand, grappling on the mats, and every once in a while, Shiro wins one. Usually when he remembers to get a decent hold on Keith tail before Keith can use it for leverage or snake it around his throat. Having Keith yield underneath him is torture. But the showers afterwards are the best reward, because for a few minutes whilst Keith stands under the spray with his eyes closed, Shiro gets to look his fill of his body. Every time, Keith is wearing that narrow black strip between his legs, and more and more, Shiro is left wondering if the first time he saw his friend without it was more of slip up than he imagined.</p><p class="western">They’ve just finished a late evening spar, or whatever passes for evening around here where the Blades seem to be following any one of three overlapping shift patterns. All Shiro knows is he’s got a sleep cycle coming up after whatever food goo he can chug down. He misses mac and cheese. He misses anything which isn’t food goo. The sparring was good, Shiro won the second round, but Keith had him pinned every time after that. His body rigid and unyielding above him, snapping his fangs in victory when Shiro conceded the fight. He’s never known anyone to move like Keith does.</p><p class="western">Keith is stunning under the shower head next to him, beautiful and lithe as he twists under the stream, seemingly content to stand and have the water pummel his muscles. His tail reaches out to offer Shiro his shampoo – different from the one Shiro has been using – and fuck if that action isn’t sexy as dammit-all.</p><p class="western">The black oblong is on show again – of course – and Shiro watches carefully as he soaps up his hair. Keith’s hips swivel, teasing, taunting a little flash of the black strip which hides so much. Shiro wants to cup his hand over that plush pouch and feel what’s lurking underneath. Everything else about Keith is smooth and sharp; his fangs and elbows and lighting fast reflexes; his skin and hair and the subtle curve of his tiny waist. Shiro is practically drooling, thankful that the shower hides so much.</p><p class="western">He imagines falling to his knees right here in the shower block, which is deserted but for the two of them though it is in no way private, and thinks about nuzzling into the join between Keith’s legs. And what legs they are… He’s a whole head shorter than Shiro, the smallest person on the base by far, but his legs are longer than Shiro’s own. And that waist, so narrow. On anyone else those proportions would be awkward or delicate, but Keith is lined with muscle and power, and Shiro is fairly certain his friend could break his neck with his thighs. It wouldn’t be the worst way to go.</p><p class="western">Keith takes the shampoo bottle back from his hand and exchanges it a moment later with what Shiro assumes is conditioner – all with his tail and all without looking – and Shiro stares at the base of Keith’s tail where it moulds into the skin of his back. He’s had that tail in his hands a few times now, had it wrapped around his bicep, ankle, neck. But he’s never touched it so close to Keith’s back, and just by looking he knows that the thick section, there at the base, is the same thickness as Shiro’s hard on. He aches to put his hand around it. Maybe Keith will be like a cat, perhaps his tail right there is just as sensitive and reactive.</p><p class="western">Shiro wants.</p><p class="western">He wonders if Keith’s cock is slender and pretty like he is. It’s been a long time since he saw it. He wonders if it’s pink all the way down, or if it fades like the shift in skin tone of Keith lips, purple on the outside, pink within when he laughs. He loves it when Keith laughs, though often he thinks he’s being laughed at for saying something stupid, or not understanding the subtly of a Galran joke. He stares at Keith’s mouth, watching the way his lips shape around his sharp fangs and pink tongue. Shiro didn’t realise he had a thing for the colour pink until he didn’t see it every day.</p><p class="western">Keith is saying something.</p><p class="western">“Shiro? You gonna finish washing your hair?”</p><p class="western">The idea of standing here under his own shower head when Keith is <em>right there</em> is sort of repulsive. Shiro grunts, not needing to look down to know that he is hard as a fucking rock and that his exposed human genitalia make his arousal very obvious. He drops to his knees, not caring about the way they smack into the hard floor of the shower, and presses himself forward.</p><p class="western">Keith’s tail catches him around the neck, coiling tight around his throat, the tufted tip skimming across his ear, ticklishly. Shiro stills, and risks glancing up from the narrow black modestly device in front of him to Keith’s face. Keith doesn’t appear to be able to blush – the purple tones of his skin are too dark – but his star-studded eyes are huge under his thick lashes, and his lips are softly parted. Shiro bites his lip and drags his eyes back down the sinuous length of Keith’s torso to the join of his legs and the plush mound in front of his face, tantalisingly close. The tail doesn’t flex and tighten, and Shiro is aware that Keith is more than capable of picking him up with it and hurling him across the room. The fact that Keith doesn’t bolsters his confidence.</p><p class="western">He leans in, and nuzzles into the warmth of Keith’s groin.</p><p class="western">Instantly his heavenly scent floods Shiro’s senses. Keith smells like jasmine and honeysuckle and a dozen other things which Shiro doesn’t know the names for, but which make his mouth water. He groans, opened mouthed, as he presses into Keith’s smooth skin. The tail around his neck never yanks him closer nor pulls him back, and Shiro thinks of it as consent enough. He can feel something within Keith’s pouch, different muscles under the plump skin, and he pulls back by inches to stroke his fingers loving over Keith’s flesh, skirting around the crisp edges of the black rectangle. When he touches it, the material is flexible but firm under his hand and Keith shivers.</p><p class="western">Keith runs his hands into Shiro’s hair, claws scraping without pain and he takes half a step back to put Shiro under the spray of the shower. Shiro closes his eyes and just touches whilst Keith rinses the suds from his hair, playing with the white shock of his fringe.</p><p class="western">Shiro buries his face once more in the softness of Keith’s skin, nuzzling at the crease of his hip and mouthing at the shape and heat of the <em>something else</em> he can feel hidden within Keith’s pouch. He wraps his hands around Keith’s thighs, marvelling at the plump, muscular feel of them and the way his fingers curve around their girth. He can’t help himself, because the base of Keith’s tail is right there and Shiro has always been eager for new experiences. No one shy gets to be the youngest astronaut in history after all.</p><p class="western">Keith whimpers as Shiro smooths a palm along the ridge of his tail, then keens into the spray of the shower when Shiro’s hand closes around the base. It is just as he thought – an exact fit in his hand like his own cock – and just as sensitive as he imagined, if the noises Keith makes are anything to go by. He half strokes, half tugs, and Keith makes an involuntarily noise, not unlike a purr deep in his chest, and his hips cant back automatically. Shiro can only imagine the view of his arse from the other direction. He’s jealous of the shower wall.</p><p class="western">The hand in his hair pulls him away and tilts his face up. Keith’s pupils are blown, and he’s panting.</p><p class="western">“No. Not here.”</p><p class="western">“No?” Shiro feels drunk, heady, and it’s hard to blink and clear the fog of lust taking up space in his brain. But he is also aware that any one of the Blades could kill him if this is perceived as inappropriate or unwanted. Kolivan actually might be tempted to do so.</p><p class="western">He rests back on his heels, drinking in the sight of Keith’s body. He reaches forward to mould his palm against Keith’s mound again, fascinated by the warmth and the smoothness of his skin. He’s not shaved, because Shiro is close enough to see now that Keith has no body hair at all. It seems Galra are either furry all over, or lacking follicles completely. He presses a chaste kiss just above the thin black rectangle, and Keith hauls him up by the tail around his neck. It probably shouldn’t be hot, the way the long muscle coils around him, digging into his airway by the tiniest fraction, but it is. Shiro gets his feet underneath him, just before Keith’s tail slithers away, and Keith closes the space between them on his tiptoes.</p><p class="western">The kiss is wet from the shower, filthy and uncoordinated as they both try to press deeper, despite the water falling in their eyes. But it’s awesome, and Keith tastes just as good as he smells when his tongue dips into Shiro’s mouth. Shiro sucks it, then nips as Keith’s lower lip in order to feel the return press of sharp teeth into his own. Keith doesn’t draw blood, and it’s almost a shame.</p><p class="western">Keith breaks the kiss to half-pant the words against his lips.</p><p class="western">“No. You wanna take your time with me, right?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah.” Shiro’s pretty certain he would agree with anything Keith suggests, as long as he gets to keep touching his skin. Their bodies are a scant inch from each other, and Shiro wants to press into Keith and reshape him against his body.</p><p class="western"><a id="__DdeLink__191_2913585525" name="__DdeLink__191_2913585525"></a> “You’re gonna treat a guy proper?”</p><p class="western">And that statement is more than a little inspiring. Shiro wants to treat Keith so well.</p><p class="western">“Yes sir,” he rumbles, and Keith’s violent eyes spark with pleasure before he hauls him close for another kiss which has Shiro’s single remaining braincell setting itself on fire.</p><p class="western">“Get dressed,” Keith commands. “Come with me.”</p><p class="western">*</p><p class="western">Keith’s quarters are nicer than his own. Neat, but lived in. There are some books and what appears to be a potted plant on a shelf, a couple of very old and well played with plastic cowboys are stuck to the front of the wardrobe with whatever the space equivalent of blue-tack is. Shiro knows what he’s heard other Blades discuss, and pulled together with the snippets he’s been told since Keith’s return, he realises that Keith grew up here. He is a Blade by blood, not just by training. Keith’s bed is Blade standard issue, long enough for something like Thace, wide for one person but a tight squeeze for two. Shiro doesn’t bother with it. Instead, his spins Keith around and pins him against the wall, sinking happily back to his knees.</p><p class="western">He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Keith’s workout leggings – and really, legs like these should not be seen in such sinfully tight clothing without a content warning – and begins to haul them down. Keith is still wearing the oversized red t-shirt he sparred in, and Shiro nuzzles into the soft fabric before trying to pull it away with his teeth. Keith gets the idea, and shucks his shirt just as Shiro pulls his leggings down to his knees, to better stare at the pouch between his legs and the hard lines of the black device he is wearing. He hauls Keith’s hips against his face, and licks bold stripe over the material. Keith chokes on air.</p><p class="western">“Why do you wear it?”</p><p class="western">Keith blinks down at him, surprised.</p><p class="western">“You don’t know?”</p><p class="western">Shiro arches an eyebrow at the beautiful half-Galra who gazes down at him. At this angle, Keith is all big eyes and pointed chin, the crown of his unruly black hair haloed by the light above. His torso a smooth plane of silken skin, obscuring the corded muscles underneath like a secret. The tufted tip of Keith’s tail tickles down Shiro’s spine.</p><p class="western">“Shiro...” Keith voice is soft, sweeter than Shiro’s ever heard it, and a slender clawed hand comes down to cup his jaw, thumb smoothing at the corner of his mouth. “I have to wear it, because whenever I’m near you I get a really inappropriate boner.”</p><p class="western">Shiro’s only remaining braincell quits. Out of everything that has happened to him since leaving Earth, this is somehow the most unbelievable. Keith is the most beautiful creature Shiro has ever seen; a fantastic fighter, a gifted pilot, and as has been demonstrated by the sudden disappearances of snacks in the mess hall, a fairly competent thief. He’s smart and funny and as obsessed with the stars as Shiro is, despite the fact he gets to live amongst them. And he thinks Shiro is worth getting hot and bothered over. Shiro groans against his skin.</p><p class="western">“I wanna see you.”</p><p class="western">“OK.” Keith lets his shoulders relax back against the wall, and cards his fingers through Shiro’s hair like an anchor. “There’s a button in the centre, like on the compression suits.”</p><p class="western">Shiro finds it with his thumb, a slightly textured circle within the thin black fabric. He presses, watching the way the mound under his hand gives with the pressure. The modesty device releases its seal on Keith’s skin with an audible hiss and Keith sighs with relief. Carefully, so carefully, Shiro peels the black rectangle away, handing it away to Keith’s waiting tail. He stares.</p><p class="western">The pouch which nestles between Keith’s gorgeously striped thighs is plush and pretty, lavender hued with just the faintest hint of pink within. Shiro runs the pad of his forefinger down the seam, the skin there silky smooth. He doesn’t dip in further, he doesn’t want to touch the wetness which he knows will be there. Not yet. He wants to savour everything; there’s no rush. He keeps his touch light, on the verge of ticklish, fascinated by the way the muscles of Keith’s stomach jump and twitch under the faint contact. There is movement under his hand, the sensation of hardness, and then the folds of Keith’s pouch part on their own – pink and moist just like he knew they would be – and the rounded pink head of Keith’s cock is pushing out. It is fat, plump, shiny, and utterly perfect. Shiro kisses the exposed head, pillowing the glistening flesh with his lips. Keith gasps.</p><p class="western">The hand in Shiro’s hair tightens, but like his tail earlier, Keith doesn’t try and control him. The pressure is nice, the faint pain prickling across his scalp shivers down his spine as Keith strokes his back with his tail. He touches the cockhead on his lips with his tongue, feeling the soft dimple of his slit and tasting the bead of moisture which rests there. Keith tastes like he smells – top notes of jasmine and honeysuckle – and Shiro knows he wants as much of that flavour as Keith is willing to give him. He’ll stay on his knees forever, if he has to.</p><p class="western">He runs his human fingers around the place where Keith’s cock is pushing from the plumpness of his pouch. More of the shaft is revealed, that same pretty pink shade which Shiro has missed so much, and he’s seized with the sudden desire to prolong the experience of seeing all of Keith, now that he can. He places his thumb – and oh his hands are big in a way that’s never seemed to matter before – over the tip of Keith’s cock just where his lips have been resting, and pushes it back. Keith makes a noise of frustration rather than pain, and Shiro adjusts the angle of his hand until the head of Keith cock vanishes with the sensation of a pop, rather than an audible sound. Now the seam of Keith’s plush pouch is only opened by his thumb, and Shiro can’t help but wriggle the digit in the wet heat. Keith whines.</p><p class="western">Shiro lets up the pressure, but keeps his thumb in place as Keith’s cock pushes outward again. This time, he stops it before the whole head is revealed, the rim still hidden by the smooth mound of purple skin, and Shiro leans in to breathe across it before he licks. There is a thunk – the back of Keith’s head colliding with the wall – and Shiro groans at the sensation of a slick, sweet substance against his tongue. He slips the tip of his tongue between the head of Keith’s cock and the fleshy exterior of his pouch, right into a yielding, moist heat he has no frame of reference for, and moans openly at the flavour of Keith. Floral but spicy, addictive. Then he pushes the tip of Keith’s cock back inside, not stopping until he feels the little pop of resistance as it returns to its sheath.</p><p class="western">“Shiro…!” Keith whines, but still he doesn’t do more than clench his fingers in Shiro’s hair. His fangs catch his lower lip, and Shiro takes the encouraging sweep of the tail across his shoulders as a positive sign.</p><p class="western">He stays like that for a while, playing with pushing Keith’s cock back inside his pouch, releasing it to reveal just the head, or the tip, sometimes a fraction of shaft, licking and lapping at the fleshy folds before slipping it back inside. Keith shivers, his breathing uneven and shallow, but he seems content enough to let Shiro explore, and each breathy moan only makes Shiro grown bolder.</p><p class="western">He switches hands, using the black digits of his prosthetic to push and hold Keith’s cock in place. Then he runs a quivering fingertip from the little triangular opening at the top of his pouch, all the way down the seam of his flesh until it smooths back into one piece again, right about where his own perineum would be. He brings his fingers back up, and this time uses two to spread the lips of Keith’s pouch and stare at the pink interior.</p><p class="western">Keith’s cock is clearly straining, long past the point of half chubbed and probably slightly uncomfortable to fit within the pouch which holds it so well when soft. Just below the base where his flesh joins and folds, there is a little space, and Shiro can’t help the way he’s drawn to it. Keith is smooth everywhere, and the slick which spreads over Shiro’s fingers is silky and warm. He touches gently, spurred on by the way Keith groans, the thick weight of his tail going slack and heavy across his back and shoulders, no longer weaving and playing as he becomes lax. The way the opening of the pouch stretches around his fingers is fascinating, and Shiro rubs little circles into the wet flesh which makes Keith snap his fangs above him. Pulled apart, he holds Keith open as he lets up the pressure with his thumb, and watches as Keith’s cock slides all the way out for the first time. Keith isn’t small, but his cock is slender and pink and Shiro can’t help the comparison his brain makes to candy as he mouths along its length.</p><p class="western">“<em>Zaskozony</em>…. Ughhh Shiro-!” Keith’s abdomen shudders with his words and Shiro blinks up at him through his lashes. He can’t reply – he’s was always taught not to talk with his mouth full – but instead hums softly against the plump folds of Keith’s warm flesh, running his tongue around the swollen base of his cock. The expression on Keith’s face is lust-drunk and fond. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”</p><p class="western">Shiro wants to disagree, because it’s Keith who’s pretty. He’s the most gorgeous creature Shiro’s ever seen, but saying so would mean removing himself from the sweet fragrance of Keith’s slick and he really doesn’t want to. Instead he laps at the place where the throbbing shaft of Keith’s cock vanishes into his body and his human fingers slide through the slick back to the little space underneath. He pushes the tip of one finger into the space, presses until Keith is growling and tugging at his hair, then slips a second finger in alongside.</p><p class="western">Keith swears. Shiro’s not sure what the words are, but it sounds similar to something Regris said the first time Shiro beat him during training. The cock lying against his cheek drips messily, and Shiro knows he wants it in his mouth yesterday. He kisses back along Keith’s shaft, keeping up the massaging motion of his fingers, and licks happily at Keith’s slit.</p><p class="western">“Mmmm… you like that?” Keith’s ears are pricked, and his tail is once again stroking the furrow of Shiro’s spine. “Hungry for something?”</p><p class="western">Shiro groans, cushioning the head of Keith’s cock on his tongue, aching to have him in his mouth, but wanting to wait, to draw out every groan and sensation until one of them snaps. Keith looks so pretty above him, perfect even, with his hair damp and unbrushed, and Shiro wants to wreck him. He slides his fingers back through the soft, elastic flesh of Keith’s pouch, feeling the hardness of muscle underneath, and Keith’s cock twitches with an accompanying spurt over his tongue.</p><p class="western">“<em>Pryzck</em>!” Keith gasps, and Shiro just about has time to feel smug, before he has to concentrate on breathing instead. Keith’s hauling him forward by his hair and he shoves his cock deep into his mouth. “<em>Bostwo</em>- unnngh!”</p><p class="western">Shiro groans around him, moulding his tongue along the underside of Keith’s cock and hollowing his cheeks to drink down every drop of sweet, honey flavoured precum. Keith keeps him close with the hand tight in his hair, and when Shiro feels the strong whip of Keith’s tail wrap around his throat, his own long-ignored cock jerks. He could touch himself, even with his human fingers smoothing and stretching Keith’s plush pouch he has a free hand, but he doesn’t. He wants to commit everything about Keith to memory. Instead he curls his tongue, pressing the tip tight against the head of Keith’s cock as Keith begins to thrust his hips. Shiro groans and looks up at Keith again even though his eyes are watering, because he wants nothing more than for this stunning creature to fuck his face.</p><p class="western">Keith groans and shudders and nearly growls, and then something changes as Shiro swallows another blurt of delicious fluid. He pulls back enough to simply tongue gently at the cockhead, swirling his fingers up through Keith’s slick to the base where his cock is now noticeably thicker and longer, the lips of his pouch spread further to allow the protrusion of a swollen knot. The sight makes his skin flush hot, and he wishes he was wearing far fewer clothes, because now he’s seen it, he <em>wants</em>. Shiro presses a sloppy kiss to the tip of Keith’s cock, then sinks back down the length, loving the way the tail around his throat constricts as he goes, and swallows when he reaches the back of his throat.</p><p class="western">Keith’s reaction is immediate and feral: he yowls, both hands pressed tight against the back of Shiro’s head, tail tight like a collar around his throat, dick spasming in his throat as Shiro sucks on him. The thick mass of his knot threatens to stretch his lips, but it’s not enough.</p><p class="western">Shiro likes a challenge.</p><p class="western">He swallows again, using his free hand now to wrap around Keith’s hip, long polycarbonate fingers reaching all the way round to the base of his tail, and the sudden force urges Keith off balance, tail unlooping in order to sway and support him. Shiro uses the release of pressure to shove Keith’s cock into the tight column of his throat and closes his lips around the knot.</p><p class="western">Keith barks, clawed hands scrabble at the back of his head with a desperation almost bordering on panic, and then he’s gasping Shiro’s name over and over again in a rough growl which makes Shiro weak at the knees as Keith comes. Shiro can barely taste it because it’s so far back, does the best he can to swallow as his throat is filled. He half coughs, chokes, there’s so much and he can’t breathe, and he’s almost embarrassed by what leaks from his lips. But he can’t pull back, because Keith’s knot has swollen in his mouth, locking in behind his teeth. He feels dizzy, just a little, but he knows he can hold his breath for a full three minutes – astronauts are tested for these kind of things before they are given the opportunity to fly to the edge of the solar system, after all – so he lets his eyes slide closed and focuses on swallowing around Keith’s cock. He strokes over the swell of Keith’s arse with his free hand, squeezing and releasing to feel the flesh bounce under his touch, and returns to sliding his fingers around the soft and swollen opening of Keith’s pouch, as he feels the pressure in his mouth begin to slacken.</p><p class="western">He would like to draw off slowly, to keep the texture and flavour of Keith in his mouth as long as possible, but he needs oxygen more. He gasps on the inhale, his throat raw and well fucked, and Keith instantly falls to his knees too, concern writ over his fine features.</p><p class="western">“<em>Bostwo...</em> Shiro, are you alright? <em>Kiepski,</em> I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”</p><p class="western">“Shh...” Shiro cradles the back of Keith’s head on one large hand and pulls him into a deep kiss. If Keith doesn’t like the taste of himself, it doesn’t show in the way he licks into Shiro’s mouth. Eager, like he can soothe away the ache left by swallowing his cock. Shiro moans against him, because having Keith in his mouth was awesome, but having the whole of that slender, lithe body pressed flush to his own is some new kind of heaven. He breaks the kiss with enough distance to smile at Keith. “Don’t apologise.”</p><p class="western">“You couldn’t breathe,” Keith points out, blunt in a way that Shiro thinks he kind of loves.</p><p class="western">“Worth it.” Shiro responds, then rubs his hand across Keith’s cheek, tracing the line of one stripe. “You’re beautiful.” His other hand, despite their change in position, is still nestled against Keith’s groin. He draws a circle with his fingertip and Keith shudders bodily. “So gorgeous. I love touching you.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah? Even here?”</p><p class="western">Shiro wonders how different Keith is from some of the other Galra he’s grown up with, or whether he feels he ought to look more human. He kisses him again in a manner he hopes is reassuring.</p><p class="western">“Especially here.”</p><p class="western">“Oh.” Keith’s clawed fingers skim over his torso, heading straight for the bulge in his modified sweats. “Can I touch you too?”</p><p class="western">Shiro shudders.</p><p class="western">“Please, fuck. Yes.”</p><p class="western">Keith tries to peel him out of his clothes, a task made harder by Shiro’s general unwillingness to move, or to remove Keith from his lap, or to stop touching him. Though the fat knot at the base of his cock has reduced, it’s still there. Keith is still hard and leaking prodigiously, as Shiro alternates between jacking him in the loose circle of his fist and swirling his slick fingers between his base and the folds of his pouch. Shiro can’t help it, something about the way those plump lips part to reveal his cock, the way they stretch further around Shiro’s fingers is captivating. When Keith manages to finally get his sweats shucked far enough down his hips to wrap a hand around his cock, Shiro returns once more to the little space underneath Keith’s cock where his pouch melds back into the rest of his body, and he has an idea.</p><p class="western">“I want to fuck you.” He presses tight into the space where he figures the most nerve endings are. Keith quivers against his fingers. “Can I?”</p><p class="western">“That’s… it’s not really… um… designed for that.”</p><p class="western">“Gonna tease you first though, right Keith?” Shiro squeezes one pert arse cheek with his other hand as Keith strokes him, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence when Shiro’s voice drops another octave. “Gotta treat you right.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah.” Keith’s eyes have gone wide, slitted pupils almost circular now, and he grins wide enough to show his fangs. “Yeah. <em>Tak,</em> <em>pryzck</em>… do it.”</p><p class="western">Shiro grins and kisses him again. Keith’s tongue is in his mouth straight away, the kiss messy and uncoordinated. Filthy in the best way with the mess of spit and cum on Shiro’s chin. Shiro wraps his free hand around his own cock, covering Keith's own as he does so, and guides himself down until he lays alongside Keith's beautiful pink dick. He strokes them both together, slow and even, and Keith’s hands find his shoulders, loose hair tickling his neck as Keith’s forehead rests against his own, watching.</p><p class="western">Neither of them look away or make a sound – nothing beyond two sets of ragged breathing – as Shiro dips down and presses the head of his cock into that little space underneath Keith’s cock. The interior of his pouch is warm and soft and wet with slick and Shiro wants to make a mess of him. He jacks himself slowly, squeezing right under the head and twisting his hand as he goes, pushing the head of his cock around in the elastic folds of Keith’s pouch. Keith’s breath goes shallow very quickly and he shivers when Shiro scoops the leaking precum from his slit and adds it to the wet covering his cock. Shiro cups his palm over Keith’s cock once more, and shifts to find the perfect angle as he begins to push his erection back into the channel where it came from.</p><p class="western"><a id="__DdeLink__1720_538586735" name="__DdeLink__1720_538586735"></a> Shiro is seized by the random and rampantly horny idea of what it might be like to fuck Keith with his modesty device on. To pleasure him thoroughly and spend himself into the tight wet heat of his hole whilst Keith would be forced to whine and beg; he wonders if he can come without his cock being freed from its pouch. Dark thought that, and he puts it aside for another time. Perhaps.</p><p class="western">Keith whimpers as Shiro presses his cock back inside, then groans as Shiro drags his own cockhead up to press against him. They are hidden within the plush mound, wrapped in Keith’s smooth purple flesh, but every jolt of cock on cock makes them both moan and shudder. Shiro jerks himself in short thrusts, rubbing himself everywhere, holding Keith in as he explores the dip and fold of the pouch, panting whenever Keith’s dribbling cock adds another spurt of pre to the now sloppy mess in which he’s playing. When his fingers come down to join in, swirling around Keith’s concealed cockhead, Keith’s thighs clamp around his arm with enough force to make his human wrist bones crunch together for a moment. The wetness increases, hot fluid against his cock and his fingers, and Shiro shudders in harmony as he comes. Keith pants into his mouth, kisses which are little more just sharing breath and touches of tongue, and Shiro stays just where he is, sliding his fingers and his sensitive cock through the cum and slick until he feels the way Keith’s cock – still hard – slides out against his hand. Just the thought of Keith and a third orgasm has him raising his shiny fingers up to taste them.</p><p class="western">
  
</p><p class="western">Keith’s cum is faintly lavender coloured, as delicious on his tongue as it was down his throat, and when he leans in for the kiss, Keith sticks out his tongue like he’s begging to be fed. It’s the hottest fucking thing Shiro’s ever seen. He does it again, scooping up their combined mess from Keith’s folds, licking it off, sharing it with Keith with their tongues. Keith groans in between each feed, hips rocking helpless as he seeks friction against Shiro’s hand. Shiro feels himself stir again as Keith captures his wrist and sucks the cum off Shiro’s fingers himself, before offering his mouth back up for another filthy kiss. Shiro has no hesitation about sticking his tongue down Keith's throat either.</p><p class="western">The next time Keith tries to grind against his thigh, Shiro strokes a hand down his spine, intending to pull him close because Keith is flame hot and his skin is so soft. Shiro can’t stop touching him; and instead the pressure of his hand over the base of Keith’s tail has his hips moving automatically back into his palm. He does it again, testing, and this time Keith mewls as his arse rises up into Shiro’s waiting grasp. Shiro loves that he was right in his initial thoughts about the sensitivity of Keith’s tail.</p><p class="western">“Up on the bed.”</p><p class="western">Keith gapes at him, like he did not expect to be ordered around by a human he could probably snap in half if he wanted. Shiro doesn’t want to wait.</p><p class="western">“Up,” he commands. Keith goes.</p><p class="western">The moment his knees hit the mattress Shiro is on him, dragging all ten fingertips down his back, watching the dents drawn through the purple stripes by the pressure, until he rakes down the base of Keith’s tail. And just like that, Keith’s back dips into the most obscene arch, shoulders dropping and tail curving up and to the side as he presents himself. Shiro groans in satisfaction.</p><p class="western">“Fuck… Keith… you’re so pretty, baby.” He doesn’t have enough braincells left to chastise himself for the slip-up of a nickname. Keith appears to either not care or not understand as Shiro takes hold of his pert arse with either hand, squeezing and moulding his cheeks, staring at the flawlessly smooth skin before him. Just like everywhere else, Keith is completely hairless and gorgeously sleek. The dark stripes from his spine and tail fade out to a smooth creamy lilac, only interrupted by the curve of the stripes of his hip bones. His pink cock hanging heavy from its pouch between his legs, and Shiro sits back on his heels to stare at him.</p><p class="western">Keith mewls, tail thrashing, impatient. Shiro wraps the flicking tail tip around the bionic plates of his forearm, and pets his way back across Keith’s beautiful arse in order to scratch once more over the base of his tail. And just like magic, Keith presents with perfect form, his displayed rear end plush and heart-shaped beneath Shiro’s hands.</p><p class="western">“<em>Stars</em>, baby...” He smooths his hand down the cleft of Keith’s arse, passing over his hole without pushing or paying special attention there. Keith whimpers, and Shiro rubs a gentle circle over his skin before dipping lower to the heavy length of Keith’s cock. “Shhh… I got you. Just breathe.”</p><p class="western">Keith groans on the exhale as Shiro tugs gently along the length of his cock, cupping his hand over the dribbling tip, smearing the sweet-scented wetness everywhere. Keith’s next words are muffled by the pillow clawed from across the bed and stuffed under his face, and Shiro takes the flicking of his ears and flexing of the tail spiralled around his arm as good signs. Keith’s cock leaks in his palm once more, and it’s Shiro’s turn to groan as he rubs the precum and slick between his fingers, watching the wet purple tinted shine coating his hand. He hovers his hand over Keith’s upturned arse, not quite touching, and lets the fluid drip from him onto the tight rosette of Keith’s hole. Keith bucks into his hand, and Shiro gives his arse a quick smack.</p><p class="western">“Said I was gonna take care of you. No rushing.”</p><p class="western">“Shirrrrooo...” His name in Keith’s muffled voice is half a purr. Shiro strokes the base of his tail, forcing Keith’s spine into an even more extreme arch, and dips his other hand down to gather more of the precum leaking from his cock. “<em>Proz… Ja blagac kibie</em>- nnnnghhh!”</p><p class="western">“Patience,” Shiro murmurs as he begins to rub Keith’s fluids over his entrance. “No need to beg sweetie. Gonna give you everything you want.”</p><p class="western">
  
</p><p class="western">Shiro punctuates his words by pushing the tips of two fingers into Keith’s hole. Keith yowls, clawing at the sheets, and Shiro swears. He is tight and hot and soft around him, so utterly perfect that Shiro has no words. He wants to lose himself in the welcome pressure of Keith’s body.</p><p class="western">“Fuck, baby… you’re so gorgeous.” Keith mewls helplessly at the praise. “Look at you. Look how perfect you are, opening up for me. You want more, don’t you?” Keith shudders. “C’mon Keith. Use your words.”</p><p class="western"><a id="__DdeLink__287_1109641525" name="__DdeLink__287_1109641525"></a> “<em>Tak! Tak!</em>” Keith sounds like he’s only barely able to hold in a growl as Shiro trails his fingers from his hole to his pouch, rubbing into the slick space until Keith shivers bodily, moving to his dripping cockhead to gather still more lubricant. He comes back up just as slowly, smearing Keith’s precum languorously around his hole, dipping the tip of one finger in only to feel around his rim before receding again. Shiro repeats the action for a third time, adoring the slick slide of the mess between his hand and Keith’s skin, then plunges two fingers into him right up to the knuckle. “FUCK!”</p><p class="western">“Yeah? You good, baby?”</p><p class="western">“Ughhh… Shiro. More...”</p><p class="western">“Already?” Shiro scissors his fingers, watching closely as glimpses of the pink interior of Keith’s body are revealed between his fingers. He feels his temperature notch up along with his heart rate at the sight. “Fuck you’re so pretty.” He pets over Keith’s tail encouragingly, and scoots his hips forward until his own cock is rubbing into the pulled apart folds of Keith’s pouch. He uses his free fingers to spread Keith’s plump behind and thrusts deep into him again. “Stars… I could watch that all day.”</p><p class="western">Keith squirms, his words no more than a bitten off whimper that Shiro can’t attempt to translate, and when he turns his head there is wetness smeared across his cheeks. Shiro leans forward, covering Keith’s narrower body with his own, moulding to his back to kiss his shoulder and wipe the tears from his eyes.</p><p class="western">“Shhh, baby. I’m here.”</p><p class="western">“Shiii-” Keith can’t even make it to the end of his name without a sob, pleasure and overstimulation and frustration all mangled together. He’s bitten the pillow and torn the fabric cover. The hair in his face is sweaty and he’s shaking. He looks wrecked. Shiro feels proud.</p><p class="western">“It’s alright. Good boy.”</p><p class="western">Shiro reaches underneath then both to palm their cocks together, coating himself in as much of Keith’s mess as he can. Then he sits back, biting off his own moan as Keith presents himself in a perfect lewd arch without being touched at all. He lines himself up, taps the head of his cock once against Keith’s rim, then angles his hips and sinks down to the hilt on one long stroke. Keith yowls, and the tail around his arm tightens so much that Shiro knows he would have <em>very</em> interesting bruises if not for his prosthetic.</p><p class="western">Every moment with Keith leading up to this, has been the best Shiro has ever had. Each pleasure piling atop the others to the point where he’s long since realised that he’s ruined for sex with anyone else. Keith isn’t just beautiful, different, gorgeous… Keith is a god, some kind of intergalactic deity forged from stardust and turned into flesh. But this, being <em>inside Keith</em>, watching the way his flesh splits open around his cock, the sensation of being totally enveloped in a slick heat unlike any other, is a dizzying high. The come down of which Shiro isn’t sure he’ll survive. His thumbs dig into Keith’s arse, keeping his cheeks pulled apart as his fingers grip hard at the points of his hipbones. Keith squirms against him, every ripple of his body telegraphed by the free section of his tail, pleasure arcing in the space between them. For several long breaths he simply holds there, memorising everything about the image before him. No sight has ever been more glorious than this, and Shiro knows he’ll never require pornography ever again. And then Keith mewls, open mouthed and wanton as he turns his face to the side. One deep purple eye swivels back to look at him, and Shiro knows that he is utterly and thoroughly screwed.</p><p class="western">He draws out of Keith until nothing but the tip of his cock remains within, the head catching and tugging at Keith’s rim. Shiro creeps one thumb across the creamy, pale flesh of Keith’s arse to rub at the place where they join together, feeling the tension in the muscles beneath him. He fantasises briefly about slipping his thumb inside along with his cock, wonders how obscene that stretch would be, how filthy to feel his and Keith’s cum around his digit even as he churns it up with his fucking. The image has him slamming his hips back in, tugging Keith’s arse flush and tight to his hips, keeping him there for a long moment even as Keith’s thighs quiver. He can feel the clench and flutter of Keith’s hole around his cock and the sound of the squelch between them makes him feel far more wild than he ever did when he was in the arena fighting for his life.</p><p class="western">He pulls Keith into his lap over and over, every time harder than the last, loving the way Keith’s claws wreck the bed, adoring the panting, drooling mess he has become as Shiro fucks him open with relentless force. When he leans over Keith and angles down, pounding him into the mattress, Keith practically screams, and Shiro smirks as he realises that Keith’s biology isn’t wholly different from his own and he does indeed have a prostate to aim for.</p><p class="western">Shiro wraps both arms under Keith’s narrow chest and hauls him away from the bed and into his lap, the position sinking the half-Galra deeper onto his cock. Keith’s head falls back onto his shoulder immediately, and Shiro braces him with his prosthetic arm around his chest, textured polymer fingers rubbing at his nipple as Keith’s tail uncoils from around his limb. He rolls his hips up, thrusting himself into Keith’s body, both of them letting the artificial gravity of the base push them back together again. When Shiro gets his other hand down to wrap around Keith’s cock, sloppy with precum and slick from his pouch, Keith shudders and his thighs give up all pretence of supporting him. Shiro doesn’t mind, because Keith is whining and panting wordlessly in his ear and the knowledge that he did this – he Shiro made this stunning creature in his arms feel this good – is more than enough compensation for the extra weight on his thighs.</p><p class="western">Every thrust now has Keith wailing, fucking himself into Shiro’s fist. Shiro’s fingers glide down over the knot at the base of his cock even as he fills Keith to the brim, teasing at the edges of his pouch, stroking as much of the plush flesh as he can whilst keeping Keith upright against his chest. Keith’s walls spasm and clutch around him, removing every other thought from his mind, other than the burning desire to plug Keith up and pump his cum into that tight chamber.</p><p class="western">But he promised to treat Keith right, and Keith is a god, and even more than his own end Shiro wants to see and feel the beauty that will be Keith coming on his cock. The hunger makes him thrust harder, the jolt of his hip’s sharper, the smack of flesh on flesh louder than their ragged breathing as Shiro increases the pace. Keith whimpers, he yowls, he makes noises Shiro has no words for strung between the moaned litany of his own name. And that is an even headier thing, that Keith is in no doubts about who it is making him feel this way.</p><p class="western">“That’s it, beautiful.” Shiro has no idea where’s he’s finding the energy for speech, because it’s hard enough to concentrate on simply breathing in between cosmically shattering thrusts into Keith’s perfect body, let alone make actual words. “That’s right.” Every sensation is better than the last, it’s not possible to sustain the euphoria under his skin. “Keith… Show me how to worship you.”</p><p class="western">Keith keens, fangs pricking blood from his lower lip, his tail cracking like a lash across Shiro’s back. And then he’s coming, his orgasm spilling like liquid gold over Shiro’s hand, brand hot and scented like the rare night-blooming white flowers from the formal gardens of his childhood. Shiro watches over his shoulder as the pink cock in his hand throbs, and he squeezes and holds tightly around Keith’s knot as the second wave rolls over them both. Keith’s claws dig into Shiro’s thighs and his body clenches around Shiro’s cock. Shiro is helpless, careening out of control as he thrusts once, twice, then spills everything he is within the body of the boy in his lap. Keith twists his face to kiss him, even as his orgasm rocks him with quaking aftershocks, and the salt tang of his blood only heightens the experience of having Keith’s inner fire turned upon him again.</p><p class="western">They don’t move for a long time, each just breathing against the other, their tongues lapping lazily together. Shiro doesn’t remove his hand from Keith’s cock as it softens, and he feels the way the muscle begins to retract, retreating into the plush mound of his pouch and sliding home. When he hesitates, Keith covers his hand with both his own and presses him close. It is an unequivocal invitation to continue touching.</p><p class="western">So, he does. With gentle motions Shiro slides two fingers into the seam of Keith’s pouch, slipping into the mess they’ve made, rubbing over the hard jut of his pubic bone and the soft, almost shy nub of his cockhead where it rests flush within him. He scoops his fingers as he removes them, and together they watch the sloppy fluids slither down his fingers. Keith uses one claw tip to draw patterns through the cum over his palm, and Shiro lets out a shaky involuntary sigh as he feels the shape of a love heart on his palm, followed by two shapes which he’s fairly certain are Galran letters. It should be silly, or endearing, but somehow watching Keith tell him he likes him by writing in their cum is incredibly fucking sexy. Shiro’s cock gives a valiant, if fruitless, jerk within Keith.</p><p class="western">“I’m gonna move now, OK?”</p><p class="western">Keith lets a little whine of disappointment escape his lips, but he nods, twists to kiss him and lifts himself from Shiro’s lap as Shiro unfolds one leg and slips his soft dick from Keith’s abused hole with a squelch. Keith groans, and Shiro catches him before he falls, lowering him gently onto the ruined bed. Even like this, sweaty, boneless with exhaustion, his tail finally as still and slack as the rest of him, Keith is the most gorgeous thing Shiro’s ever seen. He reaches forward to pull aside one cheek of his arse before he’s even realised what he’s doing. Keith sighs a noise which sounds like a purr, and Shiro gentles his movements, but doesn’t stop.</p><p class="western">The sight of Keith hole, puffy and far pinker than it was, leaking his cum, makes his pulse stutter. He can’t resist, there’s no helping the way his fingers slide forward into the slick seed, spreading it over the pale lilac of Keith’s skin, dragging his fingers to echo the dark amethyst stripes which begin to taper into thicker bands over his hips. He pushes the creamy white flood of cum back up the cleft of Keith’s arse to his fucked open hole, and there’s almost no resistance at all as he pushes two fingers back inside him. Keith moans into the pillow, a drooling mess of spent energy as he lets Shiro play with him. Shiro half wishes he had a toy to plug Keith up with, some smooth glass stopper to slide through the froth of his cum and slip into his hole. He’d watch Keith’s muscles contract, just stay right here using Keith’s plump arse as a pillow as his hole closed up around the toy, plugging him up and keeping him full of Shiro’s cum. And what would it be like, hours later, maybe even the next day, to ease that same plug out and slide himself right back into that wet space, using his own seed as lube for a second feral fucking.</p><p class="western">If it was physiologically possible for him to get hard again, Shiro knows that thought would do him in, but he has also never been more exhausted than he is now in his entire life. He finally lets his fingers slip from Keith with a soft sorrowful sigh. After all, he has no toy anyway. He really needs to find out if there’s a mall somewhere in space.</p><p class="western">By degrees he lays himself down on his side next to Keith, and stares at the beautiful half-Galra as he breathes deep, seemingly asleep. Then, one gold-tinted eye cracks open, and Keith treats him to a bright, deeply satisfied smile.</p><p class="western">“Fuck… you’re so beautiful.”</p><p class="western">“Shiro. You can’t just say that.” Keith pouts. It’s fucking adorable.</p><p class="western">“Was I not obvious enough with how much I adore your body?” Shiro leans up on one elbow, bringing his other hand down to cup and squeeze Keith’s arse once more. “I can show you again if you’d like?”</p><p class="western">“<em>Pryzck</em>… Are you not tired?”</p><p class="western">Shiro is so tired. He can feel his legs turning into jelly.</p><p class="western">“Not my tongue baby.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Zaskozony!</em>” Keith shoves him with his elbow, and Shiro rolls onto his back. A sharp sting across his spine and dorsal muscles has him sitting up again with a wince. “Oh Shiro… <em>kiepski</em>- I’m so sorry.”</p><p class="western">Shiro uses his human hand to feel across is back, the sound of Keith’s tail cracking like a whip as he came replaying in his head as he realises that his back is marked with more than just bruises. He catches Keith by the tail before he can spring fully from the bed.</p><p class="western">“Wha-?”</p><p class="western">“Don’t go. I don’t mind it.” Shiro moves to sit up fully, crossing his legs as he keeps Keith in place with long soothing strokes to his tail. The tufted tip tickles under his chin. “I kind of like being whipped by you.”</p><p class="western">Keith frowns, and Shiro realises this is one of those human expressions he is going to have to translate and explain at length sometime.</p><p class="western">“Can I kiss you again?”</p><p class="western">Keith groans and practically folds into his lap as their mouths slot together. They are both sweaty, tacky with cum and slick, and objectively Shiro knows they must smell despite having come directly from the showers. But Keith’s kiss is sweet and soft and just as eager as his own is, and the desire to clean up is a faded thing when compared to the brightness of the nebulae in Keith’s eyes. When they break for breath, both speak at once.</p><p class="western">“Please never leave.”</p><p class="western">“Can I stay here forever?”</p><p class="western">There is a pause, a beat of silence, and then Shiro wraps his arms tight about Keith’s ribs, burying his face into his hair and curve of his neck and shoulder. Keith clings in return, tail looping about his waist like the most welcome bondage in the universe. Keith’s chest rumbles against his touch: he is purring.</p><p class="western">“Keith,” he says in wonder, tracing his fingertips over the hollow of Keith’s throat. “You are perfect.”</p><p class="western">And it turns out, Keith can blush.</p><p class="western">“Oh, baby.”</p><p class="western">Keith kisses him as he extracts himself from Shiro’s lap, tugging him onto his feet by his tail and steering him toward the cubby tucked into the corner of his quarters which serves as a tiny bathroom complete with sonic shower.</p><p class="western">“I don’t think I know that word.”</p><p class="western">“Keith…” Shiro groans as Keith begins to spread a soothingly cool gel across the welt on his back. “I’ll teach you all the words.”</p><p class="western">“You’ll teach me how to swear in human languages?”</p><p class="western">“Fuck, yes of course.” Shiro turns, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek. And this feels so easy already, soft and domestic and more like home than home had felt for years even before he jettisoned himself into space. “You’ll teach me to swear in Galran too, right?”</p><p class="western">“<em>Tak</em>. I mean, yes <em>ukochany</em>.” Already Shiro knows he really wants a translation of that word, because Keith’s eyes have gone soft and his smile is a private, sweet thing. Shiro strokes the tufted tail tip looping around his human wrist. “But don’t let on to Regris that you understand, least not yet. It’ll be really fun to watch him put his foot in his mouth in front of Kolivan...”</p><p class="western">Keith bumps his hip as he hands Shiro a toothbrush and they stand together, touching all the way down to their ankles, sharing the sink and smiles as they brush up for bed.</p><p class="western">Shiro wonders which of the Blades he can get to teach him to say ‘I love you’ in Galran.</p><p class="western">He’s learnt a lot in his time so far with the Blade of Marmora, but as Keith tugs him back to the bedroom with the promise of cuddles once they’ve changed the sheets, Shiro knows there so much more to discover.</p><p class="western">He can’t wait.</p><p class="western"><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please come chat with us on <a href="https://twitter.com/SashaDistan">Twitter</a></p><p>This author responds to comments.</p><p>Thank you to the incredible <a href="https://twitter.com/@leandralena">Lole</a> for being an awesome beta reader.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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